


Complicated Relations

by lvs2read



Series: Big Damn Story [2]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Firefly Setting, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blindfolds, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hoban Washburne - briefly, Jayne Cobb - briefly, Kaylee Frye - briefly, Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, River Tam - briefly, Schmoop, Slash, Smut, Zoë Washburne - briefly, old fic is old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvs2read/pseuds/lvs2read
Summary: Mal and Simon settle into their new relationship, with all the complications that involves.
Relationships: Malcolm Reynolds/Simon Tam
Series: Big Damn Story [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816306
Kudos: 15





	1. Learnng to Adapt

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter was originally posted in 2006 in the LiveJournal community, the-pretty-fits. It was a response to ana-grrl's "Back to Firefly Challenge", filling Prompt #40. Mal/Simon - a domestic scene where they have a cliche'd married-couple type argument about nothing in particular, and then make up (maybe with make-up sex!) and was written for noandwhere/anxiety-junkie. It was beta'd by vae.
> 
> It wasn't originally part of this series, but it fits, so now it is. :). 
> 
> Translations are in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**Learning to Adapt**

* * *

Simon was sitting in the lounge, trying to read while also trying to ignore the sounds that echoed throughout the ship of the crew finishing another rowdy game of hoopball. At least he figured they would be finishing soon, since the game had been in progress for a couple of hours. Before long he heard them all tromping up the stairs, game over, teasing each other good-naturedly about who had played well, and who hadn't. Sighing, he laid his book aside and went into the galley to set out several glasses of water to rehydrate them all.

Jayne, as usual, was first into the room, looking back over his shoulder as he walked in. "I keep tellin' ya, Mal. Yer gettin' slow! Turnin' inta a old man right 'fore my eyes." Picking up a glass, he nodded at Simon, "Thanks, Doc," before heading off to his bunk to change.

One after the other, the rest of the crew came through and collected a glass on the way to their various quarters. Kaylee was rattling off a play-by-play to River, who just smiled and listened. Wash and Zoë were bantering back and forth about which team had performed better. Inara was complimenting Book on his playing abilities as he thanked her with a twinkle in his eye. They all gratefully acknowledged Simon as they continued on their way, leaving him alone in the galley as Mal finally walked in.

"Hey, _liànrén_!" Mal slung his arm around Simon's shoulders as he picked up his glass and took a long drink. Setting it back down, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and reached to pull Simon closer, but Simon slipped out from under his arm and stepped away.

"Please, Mal. You're all sweaty." He wrinkled his nose.

"So? Don't usually bother you none." Mal reached for him again, but Simon's frown stopped him.

"Yes. Well, these are different circumstances. You're half-dressed and were having fun with everyone, and I'm … Well, I was reading."

"Could've been playing hoopball with us." Mal commented mildly.

"Right," Simon sneered. "And make the teams uneven? No, thank you." 

"Sure Book wouldn't have minded sitting a round out," Mal suggested, picking up his glass to take another drink. "Or River could've played, too. To keep the teams even."

"River?!" Simon sounded genuinely surprised.

"Sure. Why not? Probably be good at it, graceful as she is." Mal shrugged, setting his glass back down.

"So she's graceful enough to be good at it, but I'm not?" Simon asked peevishly.

"Didn't say that." Mal glanced warily at Simon, finally taking note of the tenseness in his shoulders, the stiff back, the set of his mouth that always indicated annoyance. "What's eatin' you?"

"Nothing is 'eating me'," Simon snapped, sharply biting off each word.

"Uh huh. Which is why you look ready to chew nails. Somethin's obviously stuck in your craw. Might as well spit it out now. Get it out in the open." Mal leaned up against the cupboard, crossing his arms across his chest, and waited for Simon to speak.

Simon stared at Mal, stubbornly refusing to say anything, as they continued their silent contest of wills. Mal was patience personified, relaxed and calm, while Simon vibrated with irritation, barely able to keep from pacing the room. Eventually, Mal raised an eyebrow and Simon broke.

"Do you realize that you have never, not once, asked me to join in any of the games you play with the rest of the crew?" he ground out.

"Haven't I? Could've sworn I had, at least once." Mal seemed frankly puzzled.

"Well, you haven't," Simon retorted. "The only person who's ever asked was Kaylee. Shortly after I came on board. And that game ended before I had a chance to join." Simon crossed his arms and glared at Mal, almost daring him to apologize.

"Hunh. Guess I just didn't think you'd be interested."

"Not… Oh, you thought I enjoy staying apart from everyone?! Always being the odd man out?!" Simon's voice began to rise as he complained.

"Gotta admit, Doc, 'til we got together that's pretty much way it was." Mal refused to get riled, but he knew just what to say to make Simon angry enough to get all his upsets off his chest. "You stayed in the infirmary, outta everyone's way, didn't join in anythin' less'n you were forced to it. You tellin' me somethin's changed? That you wanna get all hot 'n bothered 'round Jayne? 'Round Kaylee?"

"No! Of course not! I just don't like being treated like the only thing I'm good for is my abilities, either in the infirmary or the bedroom! I'm tired of you not considering my wants!"

"What?! I ain't never…!" Mal's voice rose in shock before deepening to a low growl. "Tell me, when've I ever not considered your wants?"

"Last week! I asked you to bring back a drawing tablet for River. You said it would be no problem, that you could pick up several. But when you came back, you didn't bring any!"

"In case you're forgettin'," Mal continued in his most reasonable voice, which meant he was at his most dangerous, "had a bit of an unexpected run-in with the local law enforcement last week. Weren't able to get most of our supplies, let alone some paper for little sis. Told you then I'd get it next time. She's fine with that. You tellin' me you ain't?"

"Oh, how could I forget that 'unexpected run-in'?!" By this time Simon was pacing the room, running his hands through his hair as he continued ranting at Mal. "After patching up you and Jayne - again! - I needed to sleep. But when I tried to go to bed, you were sprawled all over it. There was no room, and you wouldn't budge! I ended up sleeping in my old room!"

"Well, maybe if you hadn't drugged me so much I wouldn't've been so out of it. Told you before how much I hate feelin' like that." Mal continued to speak reasonably, still leaning against the cupboard and taking occasional sips of water.

"I'm so sorry that my job requires me to try and ease your pain! Next time I'll stitch you up without any anesthetic and you can impress everyone with what a big, strong man you are! Will that make you happy? And besides, you _always_ hog the bed!"

"Well, you _always_ steal the blanket. Don't hear me complainin' 'bout it." Mal shrugged.

"I wouldn't steal the blanket if you didn't keep this ship so damn cold!"

"Ever think of sharin' body heat _and_ the blanket?" Mal asked curiously. "That way neither o' us would be cold."

"No! Because every time I do, you start snoring and I can't sleep!"

Mal blinked. "I … So, let me get this straight." Mal counted off on his fingers, "I don't ask you to join in group activities, I don't pick up things you want, I hog the bed, and I snore. You on the other hand, over-medicate and steal blankets." He shook his head in disbelief. "Sounds like there's lots o' things you're not too happy 'bout, Simon. Tell you what. I ain't got time for this _fèi huà_. You think 'bout it and decide if what we got's worth learnin' to adapt to the little things. I think it is, but, hey, if you don't…" Mal shrugged away from the cupboard and strode out of the room as he said, "I'm gonna go clean up. You know where to find me when you figure it out."

Simon stared after Mal as he left the room, totally dumbfounded by the direction the conversation had taken. He replayed the scene in his mind, and as he did so, he cringed at the way he had sounded. Suddenly, he snorted with laughter. Mal was right, it was all _fèi huà_. Nothing worth fighting about, and certainly nothing worth breaking up over. He needed to go talk to Mal, but first he had to try to stop laughing. Pulling up a chair, he collapsed onto it, shaking his head as he continued laughing almost hysterically. Finally taking some deep breaths, he was able to regain control of himself, though he couldn't help smiling at his own foolishness. Standing up and replacing the chair at the table, he left the room, headed for the bunk he'd been sharing with Mal for several weeks.

***

As Mal walked towards his bunk, he pondered the thought that he had never actually asked Simon to join in any of the games the crew frequently played. He honestly thought he had asked Simon, at some point, if he cared to play hoopball, but maybe Simon was right. Maybe he never had. He remembered the time Kaylee had asked. It had been shortly after Simon and River had come on board, when they'd come across that derelict ship that had been attacked by Reavers. Simon had been on his way to join the game, so why hadn't he ever thought to ask again? Only reason he could think of was because Simon always seemed to disappear every time a game started. No excuse for not asking, though. He was the captain, responsible for making sure everyone on the crew was fit, both physically and mentally. Not that Simon wasn't, but, well, he should have asked.

Dropping down into his bunk and stripping off his shirt, Mal snorted as he contemplated the rest of Simon's ridiculous complaints as he walked over to activate the washing unit. And they were ridiculous, no doubting that. Hogging the bed. No matter what you tried, fitting two people on a bed made for one was going to be a tight fit. Nothing to complain about there. Made for some cozy sleeping arrangements. Until someone stole the covers. Even that wasn't that big of a deal. Just reach over and steal 'em back. And if he snored, well he wasn't the only one. Just something else you learned to ignore. 

Just like he ignored the sound of the hatch opening and Simon's footsteps crossing the floor. Like he ignored the feel of Simon's fingers tracing down his back and coming to rest at his waist. Like he ignored the tender kiss on his shoulder. And those hands wrapping around him as Simon hugged him from behind, resting a lightly stubbled cheek on his back.

"Thought I was all sweaty," Mal grumbled as he washed his face.

"Mmm. You are." Another soft kiss on his back, and the flick of a tongue, so quick as to be almost unnoticeable, and definitely able to be ignored.

The warmth of Simon's body retreating as he stepped back. That same body ducking beneath his arm. Forcing its way between him and the sink. Those eyes, those irresistibly blue eyes that he was trying so hard to resist. That devastating smile, wreaking havoc on his insides. Those soft, gentle hands, holding his face firmly in place. Forcing him to make eye contact. That smooth, cultured voice that could rile him to anger one minute and passion the next. He didn't want to listen, but he had no choice. 

"Mal, I'm sorry. I was an idiot. And worse, I sounded like a spoiled, bratty, teenager. Forgive me, please?" That delectable mouth was right there, so close he could almost taste it. All he had to do was lower his head, just a tiny bit, and he could get lost in the flavor.

With a groan of defeat, Mal wrapped his arms around Simon and pulled him close as their lips met in a passionate kiss. Simon's hands slipped around his neck, holding him like he never wanted to let go. As Mal deepened the kiss, savoring every delicious aspect he discovered, he began pulling Simon's sweater up, wanting to feel the smooth skin over firm muscles that was hiding beneath it. He ran calloused hands up Simon's ribcage, teasing the sensitive spots he was becoming so well acquainted with, reveling in the gasps, moans, and shudders he elicited. 

Moving his hands farther up, he broke the kiss as Simon raised his arms allowing him to remove the sweater. Tossing it aside, he ran his hands back down Simon's arms, which were still raised above his head, circling them around to Simon's back and pulling him close again. "Guess I can forgive you. This time," he murmured just before latching onto Simon's neck and marking him as he jerked their hips together.

When Simon moaned and grabbed his hips, thrusting hard against him, Mal turned them towards the bed, forcing Simon to take the few steps necessary to reach it before guiding him down. Reaching for the fly of Simon's pants, he let his fingers graze Simon's erection as he gazed down at him and asked, "You want this, Simon? Wouldn't wanna be accused of ignorin' your wants."

"Oh, God, Mal. Yes! Please! Don't stop now. I want this. I want you. So much. Hurry. Please!" At Simon's breathy admission, Mal had them stripped in record time and then they were rubbing frantically against each other, hips thrusting, teeth biting, fingernails scratching, pushing each other faster and faster, farther and farther. It wasn't soft and gentle, not this time. It was fast and furious, savage and sweaty, as they fed off each other's aggression, each taking what they could from the other and giving back everything they had. And when it was over, they lay tangled in each other's arms, sticky, sated, and secure in the knowledge that it would take more than a silly argument about nothing in particular to break them apart.

***

Simon was puttering around in the infirmary when Mal popped his head in the door. "Hey, Doc. We're gettin' up a game o' hoopball. Care to join us?"

Simon looked over and smiled. "Sounds like fun. Just let me change first?"

Mal strolled over and took Simon in his arms. "Don't know 'bout that, _liànrén_. You strip down 'n show those muscles off t'everyone else, I might have to beat 'em off with a stick. You're mine, and I ain't 'bout to start sharin'." He smirked at Simon then leaned down and kissed him.

"All right, love. But don't blame me when I have to take this sweater off part way through the game because I'm getting overheated." Simon grinned up at Mal.

"That point comes, we'll call a halt and head for our bunk, find a way to cool you down. Maybe take off more'n just the sweater." Mal leered down at him.

"Mmm…I think I like that plan." Simon leaned into Mal's embrace.

"Thought you might. Let's go." Grabbing Simon by the hand, Mal dragged him out of the infirmary, both of them laughing happily.

* * *

liànrén=lover  
fèi huà=nonsense


	2. Empty Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal convinces Simon to go EVA. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in the livejournal community fireflyslash as a response to Challenge 44: Trapped in a cave. Beta'd by vae. 
> 
> Edited from the original to replace "băo bèi" (with it's unfortunate connotations) with "qíngrén" 
> 
> Translations in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**Empty Space**

He couldn't believe he had allowed Mal to talk him into this. Whatever had possessed him to listen to Mal's pleas? Oh, right. They'd been having sex and he would have said anything at that moment in time, anything at all. Talk about taking unfair advantage. And then, afterwards, he'd been too proud, and stupid, and had insisted on following up on his promise. _Wŏ de tiān na_! He was so looking forward to payback. If they lived long enough for it.

\---

He couldn't believe how complicated this had gotten. It was supposed to be a short jaunt outside the ship to help Simon get over his fear of the black. Get in the suits, go outside for half an hour or so, go back in - easy peasy. Except none of the gorramn airlocks would reopen. Kaylee and Wash were workin' on it, but it'd been almost an hour already. They had plenty of air in the tanks, so wasn't like they'd run out, but he could see the signs of panic in Simon's eyes. Needed to distract him 'fore he started hyper-ventilatin' and used up his air too quick. 

"So, _liànrén_ ," Simon heard Mal's voice crackle in his ear, "not one of my better plans."

Mal saw Simon close his eyes and swallow. "You might say that."

"You holdin' up okay?" _Don't bug out on me, liànrén._

 _Of course not, you bái chī!_ "I'm trying." 

_Grim determination. Man had grit, had to give him that_. "Imagine you're plottin' revenge." 

_Always prying. The man never knows when to quit_. "You have no idea." 

_That's right, be sarcastic_. "Don't suppose you'd care to tell me 'bout it?" 

_Wouldn't you love to know?_ "No, Mal, I wouldn't."

 _Figures_. "Didn't think so."

Simon clung desperately to the side of _Serenity_. Mal had wanted him to stand on her, but he couldn't handle all that nothingness everywhere. He needed something substantial to hold on to, to look at. So, there he was hanging on for dear life, while Mal was probably walking around somewhere on the ship. He couldn't hear where Mal was, and he wasn't about to risk a look around to find out. He just hoped one of the airlocks got fixed soon. He didn't know how much longer he could stand to be out here. 

"Simon. Open your eyes."

"No."

"Yes, Simon. I'm right here. Right next to you. I want to see you. Can't do that if you don't look at me." Mal reached out slowly and touched Simon's arm, letting him know where he was. "C'mon. You can do it. Look at me."

Simon slowly turned his head toward the pressure on his arm. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and saw Mal's grinning face just inches in front of the plasglas of his helmet.

"Hi!"

"Hi, yourself, _hún dàn_."

"That's right, insult me all you like. Wash says they've almost got the computer overrides done on one of the airlocks."

"Good."

"Yeah. So, we need to start walkin' to it. Which means you're gonna have to come up top now."

"Oh, God, Mal. I don't think I can."

"Sure you can, _qíngrén_. You've done it before."

"Yes. But then I had to, for River."

"Well this time you have to for me. C'mon now. Give me your hand." Simon released his death grip on _Serenity_ and reached for Mal. "That's it, _qíngrén_. I've got you. Now get your feet under you. Nice and easy. There you go. Almost there. See that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

They were standing on top of _Serenity_ about nine meters from the airlock. It might as well have been nine klicks for all that Simon thought he could get there. His eyes were automatically drawn to the empty space surrounding him. He felt the fear growing in him. Felt himself start to hyper-ventilate. Heard Mal's voice in his ear.

"-mon. Simon. Listen to me. Stay with me, _qíngrén_. Look at me. Don't look around. You're doin' fine. C'mon. Let's take a walk. Slow and steady does it. Your boots'll keep you anchored. Breathe natural. You're okay. Everythin's okay. Here we are. See. The airlock's open. Go on down. Wash is right there. So's Kaylee. They'll help you. I'm right behind you."

By the time Simon was down the ladder and Kaylee had helped him remove his helmet, Mal had entered the ship and closed the airlock. Pulling off his own helmet, Mal could see reaction starting to set in on Simon's face.

"Wash, Kaylee, appreciate the help. Take a break if you feel the need, but then get these gorramn things fixed."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n" Kaylee threw him a mock salute and headed to the dining area, a grinning Wash on her heels.

"C'mon, Simon. Let's get these suits off, and go get somethin' soothin' to drink." He stripped his gloves off, reaching to help Simon.

Simon was shaky, but he batted Mal's hands away. "I can do this myself, thank you! And the last thing I need is tea."

"Wasn' talkin' 'bout tea. Got some top grade saké in my bunk. Now seems like a good time to break it open."

"Oh, it does, does it? You force me to go out there when you know how much I hate it. Then we get stuck out there for God knows how long. We could have died out there, Mal. Died! You don't even have the decency to apologize! And you think now's a fine time to open a bottle of saké that you've had stashed for who knows how long? Well, excuse me if I'm just not in the mood to have a drink with you!" By the time he finished his tirade, Simon was out of the EVA suit. He left it in a heap on the floor, turning to walk away on wobbly legs. Before he had taken two steps, Mal grabbed him and shoved him against the bulkhead.

"First off, nobody 'forced' you to go out there 'cept you and your stubborn pride. Secondly, we were only out there 'bout an hour. Weren't no way we were gonna die. If push come to shove, we coulda launched one of the shuttles and got back on that way. Thirdly, I ain't had time to apologize for somethin' that wasn' my gorramn fault in the first place. And I bought that saké last time we were planetside special for us, but since you're not 'in the mood' guess I'll go drink it my own self!" Mal pushed away from Simon and strode off down the corridor.

Suddenly, Simon's legs would no longer hold him up and he sank to the floor, shaking in anger and reaction. He crossed his arms on his knees and laid his head down, trying to regain his equilibrium. 

There was a slight rush of air next to him and then River's voice in his ear. "Should go to him. Forget pride. Love is more important."

Simon looked up at her. "You're right, _mèi mèi_. I know I should, but it's not easy." 

"Never said it was."

"No, you didn't, did you? Thank you." He hugged her then stood up to leave.

"You're welcome." She stood also, looking up at the airlock wistfully. "Wish I could have gone."

"Maybe later. After they fix the airlocks." He smiled then turned away saying, "I'll talk to Mal about it."

Moments later he dropped down into Mal's bunk. "I hear there's some top grade saké to be had for the asking," he said, walking towards Mal. The look on Mal's face when he turned tore at Simon's heart. Rushing to embrace him, Simon said, "Oh, Mal. I'm so sorry. You were right. The only reason I went out there was to save face, and it wasn't your fault the stupid airlocks broke. Forgive me, please?"

Mal hugged him tight as he said, "No, Simon. I shouldn't've teased you 'bout goin' out; not knowin' how you feel 'bout it. I won't make you do it again, less'n it's absolutely necessary. Forgive me?"

"Shh." Simon reached up and kissed the one person in the 'verse who filled up all the empty spaces in his life. When they stopped for breath, he said, "River wants to go out. I told her I'd talk to you about it, but that she couldn't go until the airlocks are fixed."

"She's just gonna have to wait a while." Mal nibbled at Simon's ear.

"Oh? Why's that?" Simon groaned and tipped his head back.

"'Cause I don't plan on leavin' this bunk any time soon. And I ain't lettin' you leave, either." Mal trailed kisses down Simon's throat.

"Mmm… Think I like that plan." Simon fingers began unbuttoning Mal's shirt.

"Yeah, hope it works out better'n my last one." Mal grabbed Simon's ass, pulling him in close.

"Oh, I think it will. I think it definitely will." Simon wrapped his arms around Mal's neck and stretched up for another passionate kiss.

* * *

Wŏ de tiān a = Oh, my God  
liànrén = lover  
bái chī = idiot  
hún dàn = bastard  
qíngrén = lover  
mèi mèi = little sister


	3. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things just happen. Or don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2007 in the livejournal community the-pretty-fits. Written for the Mal/Simon Ficathon to fill prompts #10 - It's not the end of the world & #34 Negotiations - one is in the mood, the other isn't. Beta'd by vae.
> 
> Not originally part of this series, but it fits, so now it is.
> 
> Translations in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**Best Laid Plans**

Mal sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands and shoulders slumped. Simon knelt behind him, arms draped around his shoulders, bare chest to his naked back, mouth nuzzling at his neck.

"It's all right, Mal. It's not the - "

"If you say it's not the end of the world, think I might have to hit you." Mal growled as he turned his head away from Simon.

Simon chuckled softly and kissed his shoulder. "All right, I won't. But it's not, you know. It happens to everyone."

Mal shrugged his shoulders, trying to dislodge Simon, to no avail. "Suppose that means it's happened to you then?"

Simon hesitated then admitted, "Well, no, it hasn't actually. But - "

"Then don't go telling me it happens to everyone, 'cause it don't." Mal grumbled as he tried again to escape from Simon's embrace, without success. 

"I could examine you," Simon offered, in what Mal thought of as his doctor-y voice.

"You've been examining me regular for quite some time." Mal's voice was heavy with irony.

"Sex isn't the same as an examination, Mal," Simon said lightly. "For one thing I could do a blood test. Make sure there's nothing medically wrong. And even if there is, there are things we could do. Surgery or medication."

"Don't need surgery or medication. Gorramn it, it's only happened this once." Mal protested, frustration evident in his voice and attitude.

"Which was my point when we started this conversation." Simon smiled against Mal's skin, and flicked his tongue over the lobe of Mal's ear before kissing behind it.

Mal stood up, finally managing to loose Simon's hold on him, and reached for his pants. "Need to be alone for a bit. Get some sleep. Be back in a while." He pulled his clothes on haphazardly, shoving his bare feet into his boots before climbing the ladder out of the bunk.

***

Simon watched Mal leave and hoped he wouldn't worry himself into a state over something that was just a minor hiccup. He knew there were any of a myriad of reasons for it to have happened, but knew, too, that Mal wouldn't want to hear any of them. Sighing heavily, he lay down and tried to do as Mal suggested and go to sleep. 

Unfortunately, some time later he was still wide awake and Mal hadn't returned. Resigning himself to the inevitable, Simon got up and pulled on some sleep pants and a sweatshirt. If he was going to be awake, he might as well go to the infirmary and get some work done. 

As he stepped out of the bunk into the passageway, he decided he'd rather try talking to Mal than spend time alone in the infirmary so headed towards the bridge, figuring that was the most likely place for Mal to be. Hesitating in the doorway, he still didn't like looking out at all that nothingness, he focused his attention on Mal instead, and walked over to stand near him, settling on the edge of the console to face him, arms crossed, and waited to see if Mal would talk to him.

Mal tore his attention away from the view outside the window to take in Simon's disheveled appearance, from the mussed up hair to the bare feet, and asked, "Thought you were gonna go to sleep?"

Simon shrugged. "Yes, well, it seems I've become that pathetic creature who can't sleep when their partner's not there to keep them company." He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "I thought about going to the infirmary and doing some work, but wanted to see if you're okay first."

Mal raised an eyebrow at him then reached out a hand to touch his thigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just doing some thinking is all."

"Don't overthink it, Mal. It just happened. Sometimes things do _just happen_ you know."

"Yeah, I know. Like how you _just happened_ to find my boat that day on Persephone, and how you _just happened_ to be the tastiest thing on two legs I'd seen in quite some time."

Simon blushed at the compliment but persevered. "Exactly. And look how well that worked out, in time. This will too."

"If you say so."

"I say so." Simon nodded confidently then pushed away from the console, reaching a hand out to Mal. "Come to bed, love."

"Still ain't in the mood, Simon." Mal turned away from Simon's offered hand, flicking some switches on the console.

"Mal." There was a hint of exasperation in Simon's voice. "I love you, and that isn't contingent upon sex-on-demand. I'm quite sure I can survive a night or two without." He smiled and laughed lightly. "If not, there's always Rosie Palmer." He waved his hand in the air and wiggled his fingers.

"Oh, I don't think it'll come to that, _liànrén_. Although," Mal glanced up at Simon, an evil look in his eyes, "watching you get yourself off would make for an interesting sight. Might even get me in the mood."

* * *

liànrén = lover


	4. Thinking Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's thinking too much, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written in 2008 as a Sweet Charity fic for lazigyrl, and posted in the livejournal community the-pretty-fits. Beta'd by vae and thunder-nari.
> 
> Translations in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**Thinking Thing**

"How do you do it?" Simon sighed as he sank into a chair at the table and stared down into his steaming coffee mug.

Mal glanced up from where he was cleaning his guns, taking in the slump of Simon's shoulders and wondering, not for the first time, what was going on in his lover's mind. "Do a lot of things. Care to elaborate on what it is you're asking me?" Even as his attention was on Simon, he hadn't stopped polishing the barrel of his revolver, and he turned back to it, pretending a concentration that wasn't absolutely necessary.

Simon looked up, his eyes following the movements of Mal's hands, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. "River. How do you understand her so well, when I can't even follow her leaps of logic after knowing her my whole life?"

Mal placed the revolver on the table and picked up his smaller pistol, opening the chamber to be sure it was empty before beginning to break it down for cleaning. "I don't." He shrugged and gave a small grin at the look of disbelief that crossed Simon's face. "Well, not always. Don't rightly know why her ramblings make sense to me. Might have something to do with _not_ knowing her before." 

The look of disbelief became one of confusion as Simon lifted his mug to take a drink. "Why would that matter?"

Mal cocked an eyebrow at Simon. "Because I've got no notions of how she ought to be? Just go by what's in front of me?" He could almost see Simon bristling and shook his head briefly before turning back to his weapon. "Ain't saying it's a bad thing, you remembering what she was like before. Gotta be hard for you, seeing her the way she is now."

Simon sighed and set his mug on the table, shoulders visibly relaxing from the defensive position they'd assumed. "Yes. It is. I try to stay detached, but sometimes..." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration obvious. "She's my sister, for god's sake! And even though she's always been smarter than me, I've always been able to eventually understand her. Except now I can't most of the time. And yet, you come along from out of the black and decipher what she's saying without even trying."

Sighting down the barrel of the gun, Mal glanced over at Simon. "Careful there, Doc. A lesser man might take your words as an insult. Might be you want to watch your phrasing, top three percent."

"What?! No!" The look of shock and horror on Simon's face had Mal biting his cheek to swallow his grin. He hadn't really thought Simon meant to insult him, but the man did have a habit of putting his foot in his mouth at the worst of times. He waited to see if Simon managed to dig himself deeper.

"I didn't mean... I meant that... Oh, tāmā de." Simon rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Mal with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out right at all."

Mal was impressed. He couldn't rightly remember another time when Simon had apologized so readily, and the curse made him stop trying to hide his grin. "Forget about it. Like I said, a lesser man would've misunderstood. Hope I know you well enough now not to take offense where none's intended." He turned his attention back to the gun in his hand. "Getting back to your problem... Might also be that you and me have different ways of looking at things."

Simon nodded his head, though there was still a wrinkle of confusion on his brow. "How do you mean?"

"Way I see it, you're what they call a linear thinker. You get from point A to point D by following a line through points B and C. Am I right?" Mal waited for Simon's acknowledgment of the truth of that statement before continuing. "Well, I'm more of a creative thinker. When something happens to the line, it gets blocked or broken for whatever reason, I figure out a way to go around it." He raised an eyebrow at the quiet snort of laughter from Simon, allowing a small smile to hover around his lips in agreement of the sentiment. "Figure your sister's way of thinking is beyond both of ours."

Mal could almost see the train of thought Simon followed before looking up at him, head cocked to the side as he talked it out. "You know, that does make a certain kind of sense. Even before the Academy she sometimes made these gigantic leaps that I had a hard time following, they just seem more extreme now. I suppose it's just another way for her to cope with everything."

Nodding as he began reassembling his gun, Mal said, "Possibly. Or might be her way of teasing us."

Simon shot Mal a look of surprised consternation. "Teasing? You mean you think she's doing it deliberately?"

"It's possible, yes." Snapping the last piece of the pistol back together, Mal picked up a cloth to wipe away any excess oil. "The girl's quite capable of talking clear. Look at how she gets on with Kaylee. Not saying Kaylee'd not follow her more esoteric declarations, just that she don't make 'em so much to Kaylee. And when she talks to Jayne? It's all senseless ramblings. But sometimes there's a look in her eye when she's doing it tells me she knows exactly what she's saying." He picked up the polishing cloth and started buffing the barrel of the pistol.

Simon grinned and shook his head as he took a drink of coffee. "Put that way, I wouldn't be surprised. It does fit her sense of humor. I remember once, when we were kids, she was playing war games. She said our platoon had to resort to cannibalism because the Independents had cut us off using dinosaurs."

Mal chuckled. "Maybe if we'd had dinosaurs things would've turned out differently."

Simon looked up in dismay. "Gŏu shǐ. Mal, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Laying his pistol down on the table, Mal stood to get his own cup of coffee. "No apologies necessary, Simon. War's long done. If you can't share your memories of that time, this thing between us ain't gonna work."

If he didn't know better, Mal would swear that Simon's coffee cup had suddenly become the most important thing in Simon's world. "What about you, Mal?" Simon looked up, fingers still wrapped tightly around his cup, gaze serious and unflinching. "Sharing works both ways, you know."

Mal sat and looked over his coffee cup at Simon, blowing on the coffee before taking a drink. "I do know, and when I've got something relevant to share, I will. But right now we're talking about your sister's rather interesting way of communicating, and none of my memories are gonna shed any light on that."

Simon's eyes dropped back to his cup. "Maybe not, but sometimes it feels like we're not equal partners in this... thing, as you so eloquently put it." His eyes met Mal's once again. "I know it's not been... easy... us being together. That we're still feeling our way through things, trying to figure out where we stand with each other, how 'we' being 'us' affects the crew." He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, looking all manner of uncomfortable to Mal's way of thinking. "I just wonder, sometimes, if you'll ever treat me the same as you do..." Their eyes met again as Simon waved his hand negligently. "Oh, I don't know... say... Zoë."

Mal couldn't help smirking at Simon's comment as he gathered his cleaning supplies and returned them to the storage locker. "Case you hadn't noticed, I ain't sleeping with Zoë. Don't think Wash would much approve."

"That is not what I meant, and you know it." Simon's glare did nothing to reduce Mal's smirk.

Returning to the table, Mal sat and leaned forward, hands clasped on the table in front of him. "Yeah, I know it wasn't." He stopped smiling as he tried to think how to reassure Simon. "First thing you need to know, thought you already did, is that if I'd wanted easy, probably could've had something with someone any time these past many years. But doing things the easy way ain't never been my style." The grin returned in acknowledgement of the understatement and Simon's soft chuff of laughter. 

"As for the rest," Mal reached out to take Simon's hand with his, fingers curling around Simon's as his thumb stroked idly along the edge of Simon's hand. "I'm thinking that's a symptom of your way of looking at things. You got a way of analyzing things that comes in right handy when you're doctoring, but overthinking things on a personal level can lead to all sorts of trouble."

Simon's fingers tightened around Mal's and he nodded his head. "That's probably more true than I'd like to admit. But what about you, Mal? If I overthink things, sometimes it's like you don't think about things at all. You just go with the flow, and leave me in the dark, trying to figure out where I stand."

Mal laughed and shook his head, not letting go of Simon's hand when Simon tried to pull away. "For being top three percent, sometimes you ain't so smart, Simon." He stood and pulled Simon into his arms, bringing his hands up to cup Simon's jaw as Simon's arms wrapped around his waist. "This is where you stand. Right here with me." He leaned down to kiss the smile on Simon's lips then let his arms fall to wrap around Simon's waist, snugging him closer. "Tell you what. I'll try to do better at sharing my thoughts and feelings, if you'll try to stop thinking so much."

Simon tilted his head to the side and grinned. "I don't know, Mal. It's in my nature to think too hard. It's ingrained, you might say. I may need some help learning how to stop. Think you're up to the challenge?"

Mal matched Simon's grin with a devilish one of his own before lowering his head to whisper against Simon's lips, "Oh, I think so, jí băifēnzhī sān. I really do think so."

* * *

_tāmā de_ = fuck  
_Gŏu shǐ_ = shit  
_jí băifēnzhī sān_ = top three percent


	5. What If?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon ponders his past and Mal opens up about his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2007 for oxoniensis' Hugs, Cuddles and Kisses meme on livejournal.
> 
> Translations in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**What If?**

"What ya got there, Doc?" Mal asked as he dropped down into the bunk he shared with Simon.

"Hmm?" Simon looked up from the papers he was examining. "Oh, these? They're the letters I got from River before I got her out of that place. I don't look at them very often, but sometimes…" His fingers clutched convulsively on the paper before he turned his troubled gaze back to the letter and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. "I wonder how things would have turned out if I'd figured out the code sooner. Or if I'd never figured it out at all."

Sitting down on the bed next to Simon, Mal pulled him into his embrace. "Can't go thinking like that, _liànrén_. What's done is done and you can't go changing it. Worrying over it like a dog with a bone won't do you no good, neither."

"I know." Simon leaned into the hug, comforted, as always, by Mal's no-nonsense attitude. "It's just…When she has bad days, like today, I can't help but wonder what if."

Mal took the letters from Simon's unresisting hands as he said, "Understandable. Still think it's best to put it from your mind. Second-guessing yourself'll just drive you mad. Believe me, I know."

Simon nodded at Mal's words. "The war. Battle of Serenity. I know."

Giving Simon's shoulders another squeeze, Mal stood up and walked over to the desk before turning around and propping himself against it and crossing his arms. "Actually, was talking about something else. Before that."

Looking curiously up at Mal, Simon waited to see if he would continue. It was an unacknowledged fact that Mal didn't discuss his past with anyone, and as much as Simon wanted to know more, he had never asked more than Mal was willing to share. Their relationship was still too new, and he didn't want to intrude or overstep his boundaries.

Sighing heavily, Mal met Simon's gaze and said, "Back home on Shadow, before the war, had a girl. Bess Upton. We'd been sweethearts all through school. She was all for settling down and having a passel of young 'uns. Probably would have done it, too, if the war hadn't started. Needless to say, she wasn't keen on me going to fight, but I was young and fired up, so I went. Never looked back, neither." Mal's voice faltered momentarily and he ran a hand down his face. "Not 'til the day the news came about Shadow. Took me a long time to stop thinking about the 'what if's, but I did. Still got her letters in my trunk, but haven't looked at 'em in years. Probably ought to throw 'em out, but don't seem right to do so. Not after all this time."

At the end of Mal's story, Simon stood up and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around Mal's waist, holding him tight as he laid his head on Mal's chest, feeling the steady beat of Mal's heart beneath his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Mal. I had no idea."

Kissing the top of Simon's head, Mal hugged him back as he said, "That's all right. Not many do. Just Zoë, and now you."

Simon turned his face up to Mal's, their eyes meeting in mutual understanding, before he stretched up the short distance needed to give Mal a kiss. A kiss that quickly turned from tender to passionate as they surrendered to the desire they had finally admitted to each other just a few short months before. 

Some time later, their passion spent, they lay in bed on the verge of sleep, wrapped in each others arms. Suddenly, Mal began to chuckle.

Simon yawned and snuggled closer to Mal. "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking. If I'd stayed on Shadow, 'stead of going off to fight, you wouldn't be lying here with me. Might be lying here with Jayne instead." He laughed even harder at Simon's outraged gasp, until Simon pulled the pillow out from under his head and began beating him with it. "Ow! Hey! Stop! I was just thinking 'what if'!"

* * *

liànrén = lover


	6. Six Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal's acting strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2006 in the livejournal community promptsomeslash for the prompt "Indulgence".
> 
> Translations in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**Six Months**

_Serenity_ had landed on Beaumonde earlier in the day, and at Mal's insistence he and Simon had been off ship for most of the afternoon, sight-seeing and having lunch. Mal had been unusually talkative throughout the day, and now that they were on their way back to the ship he was like a kid at Christmas, exuding an aura of restrained impatience.

"C'mon, Simon. Time we were back on board. Hurry up."

"If I hurry any faster, we'll be running. What has gotten into you?"

"Nothin's gotten into me. Just time we got back's all." Mal rushed even faster as they came in sight of the ship. Zoë was waiting on the ramp as they boarded. "Shipment get delivered?" Mal asked her, a sparkle in his eyes.

"Yes, sir. Several hours ago. Everything's squared away."

"Wait! You took me out sight-seeing while there was a job to be done?" Simon looked at Mal in shock.

"Not a job. Just a shipment we were pickin' up. Thanks, Zoë. If'n everyone else is back on board, tell that husband o' yours it's time to get back t' the black."

"Will do, sir." She hit the button to close the cargo bay doors then comm'd Wash to let him know it was time to go.

Mal grabbed Simon by the hand and started pulling him toward their bunk.

"Mal! What in the 'verse? What _is_ your hurry?"

"Got somethin' I wanna show you."

"I've see it already. There's no…"

"Haven't seen this, _liànrén_. Quit dawdlin'." They reached their bunk and Mal went quickly down the ladder, nodding in satisfaction at the sight before him. "Get yourself down here, _qíngrén_!"

"I'm coming! I swear, I'm going to run some tests on you to find out…" Simon stopped in mid-sentence, astounded by the sight of Mal lounging on their bed - their new bed that was big enough for both of them - their new bed with a comfortable looking mattress - their new bed with a headboard to lean up against. "Mal?"

"Care to join me, _liànrén_?" Mal patted the mattress next to himself in invitation.

Simon permitted himself the rare indulgence of stretching out in bed at such an early hour of the day. "What? Why? How?"

"Practically speechless, huh? Guess that means you like your anniversary present?"

"Anniversary? But it's only been six months…"

"Still an anniversary. 'Sides I'm tired o' you fallin' outta bed every time you turn over." Mal smirked. "Figured it was time t' do somethin' 'bout it. D'you like it?"

Simon reached up and pulled Mal down for a kiss. "I love it, and you. I'm sorry, though. I didn't get you anything."

"Could help me try it out." Mal began unbuttoning Simon's vest.

"What? Now? Don't you have to be on deck?" Simon arched up into Mal's hand.

"Nope. Nothin' special goin' on up there. Anythin' comes up, Zoë can handle it." Mal finished opening Simon's shirt and skimmed his hand over his chest.

"Should check on River…" Simon moaned breathily when Mal leaned down and nibbled his neck.

"Imagine she's with Kaylee or we'd o' heard otherwise." Mal reached for the waistband of Simon's pants, but Simon's hand stopped him.

"Guess I'd better close the hatch, then." Simon rolled off of the bed and headed for the ladder as Mal flopped backwards on the bed.

"You didn't close… What am I gonna do with you, _jí băifēnzhī sān_?"

Simon crawled back on to the bed, straddling Mal's hips. "Indulge my every desire, same as I indulge yours." Simon grinned at Mal before leaning down to give him a passionate kiss.

* * *

liànrén = lover  
qíngrén = lover  
jí băifēnzhī sān = top three percent


	7. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a mite kinky as Mal tries something new to get Simon to stop thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2006 in the livejournal community the-pretty-fits. Beta'd by vae and kis.
> 
> Translations in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**Exploration**

It was the middle of ship's night and Mal was on his way to the infirmary. He figured that's where the doctor was bound to be, and, sure enough, as he approached, he saw Simon hunched over some equipment.

Mal went up behind Simon, encircling him within his arms, and whispered in his ear. "Hey, _liànrén_ , thought you were comin' to bed an hour ago. I've been waitin'."

Simon leaned back into the embrace as he said, "Sorry, love. I didn't realize so much time had passed."

"Uh huh." Mal released Simon and stepped around in front of him, propping himself against the counter, arms crossed. "Tell me somethin'. How long you been lookin' at those scans?"

"Today? I don't know. Eight hours--more or less?"

"And before that?"

Simon shrugged. "I've lost track."

"Find anythin' new?"

Simon shook his head.

"Think you'll find anythin' in the next few minutes?"

"No. I suppose not. I just feel like there's something I'm missing. That if I stop now, I'll never see it."

"Seems to me that if there's somethin' there that you've missed, lookin' for it when you're exhausted ain't gonna help you find it."

"You're probably right. I just can't seem to stop thinking and looking, though."

"Well, it's time to stop. At least for tonight. You've got ten minutes to close up shop and come to bed." He stepped forward and held Simon's face firmly in his hands until their eyes met then kissed him, quick and hard. " _Dŏng má?_ "

Simon swallowed and nodded. "I'll be right there."

"Good. Don't be late." 

Mal strode out of the room.

***

Nine minutes later Simon dropped down the ladder into their bunk. 

As he stepped around the ladder, he saw Mal sitting in the chair by the desk, clad only in his pants, drawing a strip of fabric through his hands.

"Mal?" Simon licked his lips nervously, eyeing the red satin. He and Mal had been lovers for several months now, and Mal was usually a tender, as well as passionate, lover. Occasionally, though, his domineering ways came to the fore, and things got a little rough. He'd never used restraints, but that fabric didn't bode well…

"Simon."

"What's… What's that for?"

"Don't worry, _liànrén_. It's just somethin' to help you relax." Mal stood and held out a hand for Simon.

Simon moved nearer until he was standing in front of Mal, but didn't take his hand. "I've got news for you. Tying me up isn't going to help me relax."

Mal caressed Simon's cheek, saying, "Not gonna tie you up, _jí băifēnzhī sān_."

"No? Then what…?"

Mal cupped Simon's chin in his hand and, looking down at him, asked, "You trust me?"

"Um…yes?"

"Don't sound like it. Either you do, or you don't. Which is it?"

"Yes. I trust you. But…"

Mal placed his fingers on Simon's mouth. "No buts. You're wound tighter than an engine coil. You need to stop thinkin' and relax. You'll enjoy this. I promise. 'S long as you trust me."

Simon sighed and nodded. "All right."

"Good." Mal kissed him lightly before turning away. "Take off your shoes and socks then stand in the middle of the floor."

Simon did as requested, watching Mal the entire time, wondering where this was leading. This was a side of Mal he hadn't seen before. Domineering, but gentle. It confused him, and he didn't like that. He liked everything to be settled, definite; but this, this couldn't be compartmentalized. 

He stood, waiting for Mal to turn around from where he was arranging things on the desk, trying to be patient, trying not to worry. He could see Mal picking things up and laying them back down, as if he was trying to come to a decision, but what kind of decision? And what was he picking up? He was about to clear his throat as a reminder, when Mal faced him again.

Mal slowly looked Simon up and down, and the heat in that gaze curled Simon's toes. Mal gave a small smile as he noticed the movement. "Very good, _liànrén_." He walked over and, still holding the satin fabric, took Simon's face in his hands and kissed him softly. Breaking the kiss, he held up the strip for Simon to see and asked, "Know what this is?"

"The tie you wore to that ball, when you got stabbed."

"That's right. Know what I'm gonna do with it?"

Simon shook his head, eyes widening, mind running through all the possibilities. _Tie? No, said he wouldn't. So… gag? Or…?_

Mal leaned in and whispered, "I'm gonna blindfold you and make you stop thinkin'. Gonna do things to you that'll make you feel so good, you're gonna forget you even know _how_ to think." A shiver went through Simon and Mal chuckled, "Like that idea, do you?"

Simon's mouth suddenly seemed far too dry. He licked his lips and swallowed, hard. Mal walked around behind him, doubling the tie and bringing it up to cover his eyes. He tried not to flinch when Mal tied it snugly. 

He was aware of hands on his shoulders, teeth nipping his ear, as Mal's voice rumbled low. "Can you see anything?"

The smooth fabric, cool against his skin, blocked all light. Simon trembled and mutely shook his head.

He felt Mal's hands skim down his arms, soothing him. "You okay with this?"

The sound of his own breathing harsh in his ears, he nodded and said, "Yes."

"Good." There was an immediate lack of warmth as Mal stepped away. Simon could hear him moving around the room. "Unbutton your vest and shirt, but leave them on."

Simon brought shaky fingers up to do as Mal bid, wondering just what he had gotten himself into. When he finished, he let his hands fall to his side, trying to calm his breathing. He tried to figure out where Mal was by listening, but Mal seemed to have stopped moving.

Suddenly, Mal's fingers came to rest lightly against his neck. He jumped slightly, hands fluttering up to Mal's waist, at the contact.

"Shh. It's all right," Mal whispered against his lips. "I've got you."

"I know. Sorry."

"No apologies. Just keep your hands by your side and feel." 

He lowered his hands as Mal licked a path down his neck, pausing to suck at his collarbone. When he whimpered, Mal stopped and spread his shirt open further, exposing his chest to the cooler air. 

"You are so ruttin' _hăo kàn_ , Simon Tam. You have no idea how absolutely _yān_ you look, standing here like this. I could stare at you all night, but where would be the fun in that?" 

There was dampness on his nipple then a gentle puff of air. He shivered and moaned as goosebumps formed. 

Simon groaned when he heard Mal walk away, but before he could process where Mal had gone, he felt something bristly and flexible sweep lightly down the middle of his chest to his navel. He tilted his head slightly, trying to figure out what it might be.

"You're still thinkin'." Mal continued teasing him with whatever it was he was holding.

"Sorry." He gasped as the item hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"What'd I tell you 'bout apologizin'?" Bristles tickled the spot again.

"Not… to." He moaned.

"That's right. Sounds like you're still thinkin'. Guess I'll have to try harder to make you stop." Simon sensed movement next to him as Mal gave the item - _a shaving brush!_ \- a toss. He heard the thud as it landed near the bed, and realizing that meant it would probably be available for later use, he shuddered in anticipation. _Or maybe it's Mal's hands causing that reaction._

He was aware of Mal's hands sliding inside his shirt and gripping his waist. He tipped his head back when lips grazed his neck, then liquid fire trailed around his nipples, followed by suction over that sensitive spot. The sensations combined and centered in his chest, traveling down to his groin. Just when he thought he couldn't take any more, Mal stopped and walked away again, leaving him panting.

Before he could catch his breath, Mal was back, caressing him with something else. _Something smaller. Softer. Swirling lines on my chest. A paintbrush!_ He smiled to himself when he identified the object then let the feelings flow over him. He moved his head, trying to categorize them.

"Still thinkin'," Mal growled. Simon heard the brush plop softly on the rug as Mal's hands came up to push his shirt and vest off of his shoulders and down his arms. There was a rush of cooler air as they were tossed aside.

"Can't… help… it," he gasped as he felt Mal's hands cup his ass.

"Wanna make you stop." All of a sudden, Mal's fingers were working the fastenings on his pants, and before he could say anything, fabric slipped down his body to pool around his ankles. He sensed Mal squatting down then felt hands running down each leg. A hand at his hip for balance, another lifting each foot in turn, and he stood, clad only in his underwear, imagining Mal's eyes devouring him. He realized Mal was standing again only when he was guided backwards to the bed. There was a gentle push on his shoulder as Mal said, "Lie down on your back, hands on the bed."

He complied, listening to Mal move around the room again. He heard the rustle of falling fabric _Mal's pants_ , and then he felt something trailing down his legs, up the soles of his feet, under his toes, something thin and hard. 

"Chopsticks?"

"Gorramn it, Simon!" The chopsticks clattered to the floor and Simon heard the impatience in Mal's voice as he ground out, "Wha' do I need to use to make you stop thinkin'?!"

Simon reached blindly for Mal as he said, "Your hands, your mouth, your tongue, your…"

He felt Mal take his hands and put them back on the bed as he was cut off with a fiercely passionate kiss.

Simon finally let his mind shut down as Mal kissed him breathless. 

When Mal stopped kissing him, Simon's mind centered on the hands roaming over his body - caressing, squeezing, pinching. 

"Still thinkin'?"

"Huh?" Simon arched into Mal's hands, his whole being focused on what they were doing to him.

"'Bout time," Simon felt Mal murmur against his skin, then hands found the waistband of his underwear and slowly pulled it down and off as he lifted his hips and legs in cooperation. He heard Mal walk away again, and grunted in frustration.

There was the snick of a lid opening then the slippery sound of hands sliding together, as if they were coated in liquid. "What…?"

"Shh. Told you I was gonna make you feel good, so lie still and feel." Simon felt the end of the bed dip as Mal began massaging his feet.

He moaned in pleasure at the feel of Mal's hands on his feet, thumbs pressing into the balls, fingers stroking the arches. He knew that, before long, Mal would be nibbling his toes. There. He sighed and stretched into the feeling. Then Mal's hands were sliding up his legs, caressing him, teasing him, ever closer to his _diăo_ , skimming up his torso. 

_PleasePleasePleasePleaNoo!_ "Maaal!"

"Yeah?" 

Warm breath lifted the hairs on his thighs. "Please!"

"Please what?"

Kisses on his hips made him jerk involuntarily. "Need!"

"What d'ya need?"

Hands held him down so he couldn't move. "You!"

"You feel too good to think?"

Simon's hands clutched the sheet desperately. "Yesss!"

"Guess you deserve a reward then."

Finally, Mal's tongue was on his _diăo_. Mal's hand squeezed his balls. Mal's fingers were in his ass. And, at last, warm, wet heat surrounded him. 

_OhGod!OhGod!OhGod!_ "Oh, God!"

He climaxed for what felt like forever, pulsing uncontrollably, all ability for coherent thought lost to the sensations coursing through his body. 

As Simon's heartbeat slowed, he tasted himself in a sensual kiss and ached to touch his lover. "Please, Mal! Need to touch you!" 

"Not gonna argue with that." The rustle of cotton sheets as Mal moved back.

Simon scrambled to sit upright. Reached out blindly and felt Mal take his hands. Let Mal guide them. Finally felt Mal's skin under his fingers. _Scars_. Bending down to lick and tease, he followed the path of those scars to his goal. _Yes! I love doing this to him. Caressing him. Teasing him. Pumping him until he groans. Swallowing as much as I can. Tastes so good._ He let himself be pulled up into a frantic kiss before collapsing to the bed with Mal. 

He lay curled up in Mal's arms with the blanket brought up over them, warm and safe.

"Simon?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm gonna take off the blindfold. Keep your eyes closed for a bit."

"M'kay." Mal's hands were in his hair, gently stroking.

"Simon. Look at me."

He opened heavy eyes. _Mal._

"Hi." Simon smiled in contentment.

"Hi, yourself. You okay?" Mal hugged him close.

Simon nodded drowsily. "Love you." Eyes closing, he drifted off to sleep.

"I know."

* * *

liànrén = lover  
dŏng má = understand  
jí băifēnzhī sān = top three percent  
hăo kàn = good-looking  
yān = captivating  
diăo = penis


	8. Of Bullets and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Simon's birthday, but Mal's the one getting a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2006 in the livejournal community promptsomeslash as a fill for "Simon gives Mal a gift." 
> 
> It wasn't originally part of this series, but with a little judicious editing it is now. :)
> 
> Translations in mouse-over and at the end.

* * *

**Of Bullets and Memories**

Simon walked onto the bridge, stopping behind the pilot's chair where Mal was manning the controls.

Mal glanced up at him. "Mornin', Doc. Somethin' I c'n do for you?"

"Good morning. Actually, no. I wanted to give you something. Here." Simon handed Mal a small box.

"What's this? Today ain't _my_ birthday." Mal winked at Simon.

Simon shook his head with a grin. "I know. But I want you to have this anyway. Please, just open it."

"All right. All right. Don't gotta be so pushy." Mal set the auto-pilot then opened the box. "Hunh. It's a bullet." He gave Simon a puzzled look.

"Yes, but it's not just any bullet." Simon smiled softly.

"No?"

"No, Mal. It's the bullet that almost killed you on my birthday two years ago."

Mal shuddered at the memory of that awful time when his ship was dead in the water, so to speak, and he'd sent his crew away. "An' you kept it all this time? Thought bein' morbid and creepifyin' was sis's department?"

"Yes, well, I guess it runs in the family." Simon shrugged.

"Why'd you keep it? An' why you givin' it to me now?" Mal asked.

Simon laid his hand on Mal's shoulder. "I kept it because I almost lost you that day. Twice. I kept it so that if I did lose you, I'd have something tangible to remember you by. I kept it because, at the time, it was the only thing I had that could be considered yours." 

Mal wrapped his arms around Simon's waist, hugging him tightly, and then pulled him down onto his lap and held him close. "So why you givin' it to me. Could still lose me."

Simon rested his head on Mal's chest as he said, "I know. Believe me, I know. I worry about that every time you go out on a job. But that bullet was to remember something I never had. I don't need it anymore. If, Buddha forbid, I should lose you now, I'll have something much more meaningful to remember you by." He tilted his head back and brought a hand up to cup Mal's jaw. "I'll have my memories of our time together. Memories of everything we've been through since the day we met. But especially memories of the last year. Memories of caresses that make me weak in the knees. Memories of kisses that leave me breathless. Memories of a love I never thought I'd find. I don't need a bullet to remember you by. You're in my heart, and you always will be."

Mal groaned, tipped his head down, and kissed Simon, tenderly at first but with growing passion as Simon pulled him closer.

"Eww! Not in my chair! Don't you two have a bunk?"

" _Bì zuĭ_ , Wash. C'mon, _qíngrén_. Don't wanna offend my pilot's sensibilities." Mal helped Simon to his feet then stood up and clasped his hand before starting off the bridge, taking the box with him.

"My sensibilities are fine. Just not so sure about my chair." Wash complained.

"Your chair is fine, Wash. Besides, it's not like you and Zoë haven't…"

"Hey!"

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, _qíngrén_."

Simon just smirked as they walked down the passageway to their bunk.

* * *

Bì zuĭ = Shut up  
qíngrén = lover


End file.
